“You can come help outafteryou’ve finished your homework, little man. You promised me you’d start this school year strong before we left, and I’m holding you to it.” Kane gives him a knowing look.
“I’ll help you with math,” Sophie volunteers. “It’ll go way faster.”
It’s hard not to laugh at the way the boy scowls. So familiar.
Not that my brother was ever much help with homework.
Certainly not when he turned into a teenage punk, but when it came to family drama and friend group fights, he always had my back.
“Aw, do we have to do it now?” Daniel asks.
“Yes, Bud. The sooner you hit the books, the sooner you can hit the docks, and the faster we can all hit the water. Get moving and we might make it out on the lake today.”
Sophie’s face lights up.
The difference is stark.
When she forgets to be shy, she’s a pretty girl, radiating light. I bet she’ll be gorgeous when she’s older.
“You promise, Dad?” she asks excitedly. “Can I take my telescope? The little one?”
“Only if you let me make sure you’ve got the solar filter on first. I’m not letting you burn your eyes out staring at the sun,” Kane says, frowning as he crumbles more bacon on his pancakes.
“Yeah, I know!” Sophie chirps. “I actually just want to look at the scenery. No sky until after dark.”
“Well, bring it. As long as you promise not to look near the sun, Soph.”
“I’ll be like a pirate queen,” Sophie says, turning to me. “What about you?”
My heart skips a beat.
“What about me?” I pause, forkful of food halfway to my mouth.
“Are you like the landlord lady?”
“Yes, something like that,” I say awkwardly, determined not to look at Kane. “I mean, it’s not my real job.”
“What’s your real job?” Dan demands.
For a second, I hesitate. But they’re just kids.
Harmless, I hope.
“I design shoes,” I tell them. “It’s a work in progress, I mean, but that’s what I’d like to do.”
The interest in Dan’s face drains away, but Sophie looks at me in awe. “Shoes? You designshoes?” she whispers with reverence, like she can’t imagine anything cooler. She looks under the table at my feet. “Like, the kinda shoes you’re wearing? You have people walking around with your shoes?”
I laugh.
“Are there any other kind? Mine aren’t good enough to be worn just yet, but a girl can dream. I can show you some designs, if you want. Do you like shoes?”
Her cheeks flush.
“Love them, but I don’t really get a chance to—aw, never mind,” she mutters.
When I look over, Kane watches with a hawkish intensity.
Perfect segue to the question I’ve been wanting to ask since we met.
